CODE NAME: ORIHARA IZAYA
by sodesne ON HAITUS
Summary: For Hachimenroppi, crime and violence were nothing new, but this time he picked a fight with the wrong people.  Forced to atone, Roppi takes on the name Orihara Izaya.  His only mission:  Kill Heiwajima Shizuo.  AU
1. Prologue: Death of a Fool

CODE NAME: ORIHARA IZAYA

Summary: For Hachimenroppi, crime and violence were nothing new, but this time he picked a fight with the wrong people. Forced to atone, Roppi immerses in the darkness shrouding the name Orihara Izaya and those who came before him.

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><p>Prologue: Death of a Fool<p>

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><p>The bar was a rather dim and menacing place. All of mankind's worst could be found there, murderers, arsonists, pedophiles, kidnappers, mad scientist, runaway convicts, etc. Of course, the society had shunned and abandoned these people but by their choice. There were only few there who didn't choose to be there.<p>

"You think you're so high and mighty!"

Hachimenroppi had chosen to take up a spot in that horrible place. His seat gave him a wonderful view of the disgusting and corrupted bargains and deals of these low lives. But at least these low lives were honest. Their honesty in their trade made them easier for Hachimenroppi to accept than the humans in the light, forever concealing their true natures.

"Dammit you bastard, look me in the eye and say it to my face!"

This bar was a rather infamous establishment. Anyone from the underground who was someone had a place here. As the laws of the underground dictated, these 'seats' must be taken by force or by cunning. The regulars had accepted him when he threw out the last man, a cruel mercenary, and took his place. Now and again, he would be challenged, as would everyone in this damned establishment.

"Hah! I bet you're too scared!"

At this, some regulars crackled but Hachimenroppi didn't even bother to respond. He continued observing a deal between two well-known yakuza executives. This was an important deal, he could tell. It would be rather idiotic to miss such an important transaction to deal with a greenhorn.

"Look at me you BASTARD!"

The fool grabbed Hachimenroppi's hand and all the wheezing and smirking stopped. All the unoccupied regulars began fiddling with whatever trinkets they had at hand and those with deals quietly moved it into the back. The two yakuza executives included.

"This is why I hate humans," he began. The regulars still in the room knew the man was now livid. "The deceit, the corruption, the lies and the _complete lack of manners!_"

And it was over in a moment.

Before the fool could even react, the knife had sunk deep into his chest. Dead in mere seconds. The body fell with a dull thump. Some of the more shameless ones walked up to the body and began digging into the pockets. Others waiting until the body was dragged outside.

"Roppi-san, that was rather rude of you," one of the yakuza executives commented, sliding into the now empty seat—the usual regular was stripping the dead body outside—next to him. "Spying on our transactions."

"Shiki-san, you know as well as I do," Hachimenroppi retorted. "_This_ is why I'm here. To watch humans create their own problems and destroy themselves."

"That is a rather cruel hobby you have," Shiki responded. "But I think you might want to get out of this place for a while."

"…"

"That man you just killed was a undercover Scarf," the executive said smoothly, sliding out the dead man's ID—when did he take that?—stamped with a large circle and smooth script: _Dollars_.

"Shit," was Hachimenroppi's only response.

* * *

><p>Ikebukuro used to be a place where the worst of the worst was dumped and abandoned by the rest of the world. Within this city, semi-normal communities formed and gangs dedicated to justice formed.<p>

One that came to play years ago was the Dollars. No one knows who the founder was, but they anonymously managed to create a government above all this chaos. And that might have been the reason why they succeeded. No one knew if their friends or next-door neighbors were actually part of the Dollars. No one knew whether it was safe to speak against these Dollars or not.

It seemed strange that a government was set up around such ambiguous rules, but those who immersed their whole lives in the illegal and dirty work of others knew why. Those who had decided to reform and gave up their ways to support this new order wouldn't know of the truth behind their new governments power, having decided to trust it blindly. But others, like the regulars in the bar Hachimenroppi occupied, knew.

Those that dared to resist or oppose, harm or kill, dissent or disagree with the Dollars were destroyed, annihilated or wiped off the face of the earth by someone within the Dollars. A man who was said to be like a prophet. He knew everything they said; all the coming and goings of this city.

"Think about your darkest dirtiest secret that you wouldn't want anyone to know. Well, HE SAW YOU DO IT!" began the underworld's slogan for this man.

No one knows what his real name is, or if this were his real name, but mankind's worst would whisper this name in the deepest shadows and between dead bodies:

_Orihara Izaya_.

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><p>AN: I actual got this idea off a movie. It's not based on the movie, but just one small part of it made my mind tick at like 1 AM. Oh, props to whoever realizes where the Izaya's 'underworld slogan' comes from. (Hint: Theater of the Absurd)

I'm working on several projects at the same time so I don't think I'm going to get to this until much later, but I suppose here's a preview for my summer works.


	2. Act I

CODE NAME: ORIHARA IZAYA

Summary: For Hachimenroppi, crime and violence were nothing new, but this time he picked a fight with the wrong people. Forced to atone, Roppi immerses in the darkness shrouding the name Orihara Izaya and those who came before him.

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><p>ACT I<p>

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><p>Scene 1: Caught<p>

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><p>"You killed a Scarf? Are you out of your mind Roppi-chan? Why are you <em>still here<em>?"

"Broadcast it to the world now would you," Roppi grumbled sarcastically. The bar was mostly empty. Rumors spread fast and it was only a matter of time that the Dollars moved in on him. No one, not even Shiki, wanted to be caught in the crossfire.

"Anyone who knows what's best for them has evacuated this place," his only companion laughed. "Everyone but the criminal in question."

"Then why haven't you."

It came out more of a statement than a question, but Roppi was not in the mood for expressive communication. Not that he was ever, but with the threat of the Dollars looming so close, he didn't want to talk.

"You're talking to the man who managed to nick information from the Dollar's top guns," his companion said.

"You mean the child," Roppi muttered under his breath.

"I heard that," his companion whined. "I taught you everything you have to know about human observation and surviving this place, and all you do to thank me is giving yourself up to the Dollars on a silver platter."

"Where else would I go?" Roppi, frustrated with this whole conversation, demanded. Staying alone in his home would pose an even greater threat. He was surrounding by forest and nature in every direction if he stayed there. All the Dollars would have to do is cause a fire and smoke him out. At least in the city, he had a chance of blending in.

"Maybe you should go to Shibuya," his companion offered. "The Dollar's influence hasn't gone that far yet. Everyone goes there to hide."

"Shibuya is the headquarters of the Resistance," Roppi commented. His companion was either dumb or ignorant or maybe even both. "I'm staying here."

"Are you sure you're not going to leave?" his companion asked.

"Yes, I'm sure," Roppi replied.

"Well, just from a teacher to its pupil," his companion began. Roppi rolled his eyes. True, from his childhood on, this man taught him a great deal on how to survive on the streets but half the time, he would disappear and come back weeks later. It was hardly a teacher-student relationship. "I want you to have this."

Roppi glanced at the switchblade that was pushed across the counter toward him. In his youth, he would always see his self-proclaimed teacher carry that knife. It was a keepsake, the man had once said. For memories of a monster.

"I can't believe I'm giving my precious blade to a human hating brat," his companion sighed dramatically.

"And I can't believe I'm acquainted with a human loving psychopath," Roppi responded, but he took the blade. Roppi has always used switchblades or other small knives, and he would always discard them as he used them. But he immediately took liking to the small blade from the first touch. It was light and well kept. The blade flicked out smoothly and quickly and shined brightly in the dim light.

"Well, I think this is the last time I'll be seeing you Roppi-chan!" his companion exclaimed into the empty bar. With a skip and a hop, he bounded out of the chair and began making his way for the back exit. "I just came around to see whether you'd join me to Shibuya, but I guess not."

"Wait, Nakura!" Roppi called out; the man stopped and turned around expectantly. "Is…is it really okay for you to be giving me your…knife?"

A gleeful smile came to the man's lips. "I'm off to see the monster himself! Besides, you'll need it more that I will. Call it a good luck charm of sorts."

"Nakura-sensei," Roppi said quietly, a nostalgic name he hadn't used since his childhood. "Thank you."

The man seemed shocked for a moment but turned away continuing toward the exit. He called over his shoulder, "Be sure to be safe~! They might send Orihara Izaya after you~!"

The moment the man disappeared; a large light blared into the dim bar. The blinding white illuminated all the filth within and a loud speaker blared:

"_Hachimenroppi. This is the Yellow Scarf Division of the Dollars. You are under arrest for murder and attempted destruction of peace and order._"

Roppi secured the blade in his double-layered jacket pocket and walked toward the front entrance. It was too late to regret not going to Shibuya, but the scars were still healing. The scar left by his family who abandoned him here in Ikebukuro and fled to Shibuya themselves. He had nowhere to go.

So he walked into the white light and was greeted by the sight of organized thugs masquerading as police. And he laughed.

The irony of the whole town suddenly fell upon him as he realized that he was probably going to die. Might as well get a laugh now before he couldn't.

* * *

><p>Scene Two: Identified<p>

* * *

><p>The standard procedure had been followed. Roppi was caught, searched and taken to the 'police' station. It was typical stuff that even pickpockets went through. And of course, they never found the switchblade. Too sloppy. They seem to do a search for the sake of legally roughing someone up and not actually looking for weapons or harmful items.<p>

Then he was brought to the waiting chambers where a young girl was tagging the criminals in wait of interrogation. Without anything to do, he profiled her.

Medium height, slightly underweight, light brown hair cut short, meek and timid personality, eerie all knowing smile, he thought as she got closer and closer. Her nametag read: Saki.

Finally she gently walked towards him, looking down at her papers, and read, "Hachimenroppi-san. Murder and disruption of peace and order. Do you claim guilty or not guilty?"

She looked up at him and her clipboard fell from her hands. Her eyes widened. He could only stare up at her evenly, trying to figure out exactly what had caused this reaction. Her eyes seemed to search him, looking and prodding. Her hands were brought to her mouth, hiding was looked like a smile—a smile? But before he could even open his mouth to speak, she grabbed her fallen clipboard and bounded out the holding room's doors.

"I found him! I found him!" her call could be heard as the clacking of high heels echoed into the hallway. "_He's the fourth!_"

Roppi sunk his hands deep into the pockets of his red fur lined coat. It was never good to be numbered. Feeling around, his hand clasped his mentor's switchblade and rubbed it almost for comfort. He was careful not to let the blade swing out and tear a hole in his jacket.

But why not? The guards seemed to be preoccupied with Saki's sudden uproar and disappearance. It would be easy as pie to slit the remaining one's throat and make a get away to the nearest door. These people were not organized police—organized thugs yes, but not trained units for keeping order.

It was because he had nowhere else to go. He might as well be here as he was anywhere. His family left him in the worst part of Ikebukuro as a child no older than four or five. His so-called friends abandoned him for power, violence and money. Only Nakura had been there for him and even then, the man had been manipulative and just completely and utterly sadistic.

Watching the worst sides of humans, Roppi knew that he hated those vermin and he hated himself for being one too.

Caught in thought, Roppi sat there, unmoving, until several guards grabbed him, handcuffed him and forcefully stampeded him into an interrogation room. Sitting there already waiting for him was one of the most famous persons in the Dollars. Not that Roppi knew at that particular moment.

How as he to know that the infamous Yellow Scarves Shogun, Kida Masaomi, was just a fifteen year old kid?

* * *

><p>Scene Three: Questioning<p>

* * *

><p>The concrete walls and ceiling were illuminated by one light, hanging from above. Roppi flinched as the disgusting hands of the guards forced him into the seat opposite of the kid wearing a yellow scarf. They stood stonily at Roppi's side, showing much of the previously missing conduct and professionalism. The blonde kid waved a hand and all but two guards left the room.<p>

"Hachimenroppi is it?" the boy asked with a smile, bright and sunny like one who didn't know of life's hardships. "No last name?"

"…" the man wasn't sure how to respond. This boy seemed to have some authority or, at least, enough authority to command respect and obedience. However, Roppi honestly felt like it didn't extend to him.

"Not very cooperative either, but I can see why Saki picked you out," the boy continued, his tone thoughtful and gaze far away beyond Roppi. "You do resemble _him_."

The blonde boy made a motion with his hands and the two guards stepped up.

"Search him again," the boy instructed. "Be sure to turn over his pockets. Double layering had always been their favorite trick."

Roppi struggled to keep still as his coat was ripped from him. Without a fault, the switchblade fell out of the concealed pocket and clanged against the metal table. The guards seemed to want to continue, but the blonde waved his hands once and the guards retreated. This time, leaving the handcuffed Roppi and the blonde boy alone.

The blonde picked up the blade gingerly as though it would spring open and attack him. He flicked the blade open and weighed it in his hand, tossing it gently. He muttered into air, "Yes, this was definitely his."

The boy no longer smiled.

"Hachimenroppi, do you know who I am?" he asked, yellow eyes cold like frigid gold.

"…"

"…not that it really matter if you do or don't," the boy continued, twirling the still open knife with his fingers. "But here's a hint, I'm usually most commonly referred to as the Shogun of the Yellow Scarves."

"Kida Masaomi," Roppi replied. Hah! Here was another example of human failure. A child, not yet an adult, caught up in the politics of man and monster. O how the wise have fallen! A child governing the peace of a city!

"Bingo~!" the boy once again smiled. This smile was the worst kind of fake; it was a mockery of the real thing. "And you've killed one of our best covert operatives in a bar fight, leaving his belongings ravaged and body dissected."

"Masaomi-_kun_," Roppi smiled back, equally fake and horrible. "What was your covert operative picking fights there for?"

"Protecting peace and keeping order," the boy answered without a pause. Roppi was just about to respond when the boy suddenly exploded, "Wait, 'Masaomi-kun'? When did I give you permission to address me as such?"

"The moment you thought a brat like you could threaten me," Roppi responded, but that was not the point he wanted to make. So he continued before the boy could interrupt him again with the trivial and unimportant, "Protecting peace constitutes of selling children into slavery and prostitution and keeping order also includes competing in gang wars."

"There are sacrifices needed to create a better order," the boy replied stonily, regaining his former calm. "We needed to shut down these activities from their sources."

"While he had his Dollars ID tucked in his back pocket," Roppie snapped back. "The first target learned by any amateur thief."

"It was protocol—"

Hands slammed against the table.

"It was _stupid_."

"Just because you don't follow rules doesn't mean you have the right to judges those who do you—"

Fingers pointed.

"Rules? I think you mean lack of common sense boy. Those who lack—"

Both parties standing.

"This is why I hate criminal who are good for nothings and illogical and—"

"This is why I _hate_ humans!"

_Beep, ding, dong, ding, ding, beep!_

A digital ringtone sang out into the concrete cube. Their conversation severed. Their heated argument killed in an instant.

_Beep, ding, dong, ding, ding, beep!_

Both of them slowly took a seat once more. It took a moment more, but Kida slowly loosened his grip on the switchblade and placed it down.

He flipped open his phone and answered with a generic, "Yes, this is Kida."

Roppi closed his eyes and evened out his breath. It had been pointless to engage in that shouting match with the boy. Pointless. Completely pointless.

"Yeah, you're watching right?"

Roppi kept his eyes closed and just listened. Watching? Who was?

"Those were the exact same answer as the third one and the second one for that matter."

In the darkness, nothing was being pieced together. Answers? Third and second one?

"I think we've found our fourth."

Fourth?

"Sure there are minor differences but they've always answered the last one differently anyways."

Roppi finally allowed the light to blind his ruby eyes momentarily before focusing once more on the blonde on his phone, looking much more like a teenager at the moment than the head of the Yellow Scarves.

"After all, the first Orihara Izaya answered the complete opposite: This is why I love human."

* * *

><p>Scene Four: The Deal<p>

* * *

><p>"<em>You have two choices, Hachimenroppi-san.<em>"

The voice transmitted through the phone was polite, cold and efficient.

"_A life time of community work service under 24/7 guard surveillance—because no prisoner gets to live without contributing._"

There was no room for questioning or for refusal.

"_Or one simple mission._"

"A simple mission," Roppi echoed. There was an edge of disbelief to his tone, but it was mostly just deadpanned.

"_Don't worry, it's something that you should be quite familiar with._"

"What would this mission be?" he questioned. The blonde kid had exited the concrete room and left his cell on the table on speakerphone. Roppi felt somewhat silly talking into a phone from a distance, but he made no move to touch it.

"_Assassination_."

"So I'm expected to kill someone and…"

"_That's it. Nothing more, nothing less. Bring us their head and you'll be free to do whatever you wish. We would no longer charge or pursue you under any crime. The Dollars would never involve ourselves with you ever again in our territories._"

"That's a tempting offer," Roppi conceded and it was. Murder was nothing he hasn't done before. Just someone's head and he could stay in this place, free from hassle and free from everyone. He could stay in this place, the only place he could belong.

"_It's supposed to be. An eye for an eye, a gratitude for a gratitude._"

"Never involve with me ever again," Roppi repeated. "Not even if I voluntarily stroll into the Dollar's headquarters."

"_If you kill him, then never again_. _Not even if you stroll into our headquarters._"

"…I'll do it."

"_Thank you Hachimenroppi-san. But from now you'll be known by the code name _Orihara Izaya_. You'll be briefed by Kida-kun for your assignment so exit the room whenever you're ready._"

Pocketing his switchblade on the table, Roppi moved toward the door of the concrete block, but paused, turned around and said, "Didn't catch _your_ name."

"…_you may call me Tanaka Tarou._"

* * *

><p>Scene Five: Assignment<p>

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><p>"Orihara Izaya-san, will you follow me?" the young girl from the holding room requested.<p>

Roppi had opened the door to see only Saki standing there with a small pair of keys. She had swiftly undone his handcuffs and set them aside. Now they walked, side by side, down the hallway toward what must be the blonde kid's office.

"Masaomi," she called, knocking on one of the doors. "I've brought Izaya-san."

"Let him in," came the muffled replied from beyond the door. She smiled at Roppi and opened the door for him. He stepped into the office. The office was brand new, squeaky clean complete with a fresh desk and blinding new lights. Behind him, the door shut and faint clanks of Saki's heels could be heard.

"Orihara Izaya," the blonde boy finally said. Roppi merely turned to face the blonde who was leaning against the now shut door. "The fourth one, huh? I wonder if you'd last very long?"

"I'm not going to last," Roppi said coldly. "I'm going to kill this person and then leave."

"Well, at least you have the right attitude," Kida sighed. He pushed himself off the door and walked past Roppi toward the painted white desk. "The first one was killed by his target, the second one deserted, and our last one was killed for going against orders…by us."

Roppi watched the teenager turn to face him and lean against the pristine white desk. The blonde had a smile that was not fake but equally horrible.

"I wonder if you'll actually manage to kill Heiwajima Shizuo."

Roppi narrowed his eyes. Heiwajima Shizuo was the greatest force on the side of the Resistance. A man famed for his inhuman strength and rash boldness. The only reason why the Dollars' influence hasn't reached all the way to Shibuya. Not a small figure or a small problem.

"But then again, since you hate humans…"

So that was the target.

"…you may be the only one who will actually succeed."

Hachimenroppi asked for Heiwajima Shizuo's forgiveness that day in that pristine white office because now, that man was going to die.

Roppi was going to kill him.

In order to stay in the only place he belonged.

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><p>AN: I lied. I watched another movie that spurred this idea on even further. I'm not quite sure how secure Roppi's traits in the fandom are, so I'm just playing around with some very broad thoughts here. Forgive any OOCness. This is my first time trying to do Roppi's character!


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